La Caresse D'une Fleur
by george's firework
Summary: Most would think that Fleur Delacour was one who gave up her kisses easily, but it was not the case. Those soft caresses of her lips had to be earned.
1. Chapter 1

At the not-so-tender age of thirteen, Fleur Delacour allowed her first kiss to be taken by a younger boy with the name of Julien Courtemanche – the son of a lord. He was only four and a half at the time but thought of himself as very popular; especially with older ladies. Fleur only kissed him to stop Gabrielle crying because Julien had kissed her first.

"_Il a pris mon premier bise!_" Gabrielle had come running up to her sister as fast as her small legs could carry her, with tears streaming down her face. Julien had not been far behind and had only just managed to stop himself from knocking Fleur over as she bent down to scoop up her three year old sister.

Even after a twenty minute conversation containing songs, compliments and presents, Fleur had not been able to comfort her little sister about the fact that her very first kiss had been stolen from her.

"_Peut-être… Vous pourriez l'embrasser aussi? Il pourrait me faire sentir un peu mieux…"_ Gabrielle had suggested and Fleur had hesitated. Few were aware that Fleur had not yet given up her first kiss – most believed that, due to her beauty and her somewhat bossy nature, she would have kissed a boy long ago. Fleur wasn't quite so sure why she was hesitating so much; he was only four and a half, surely it didn't matter?

"_Fleur… s'il vous plait…" _Her little sister whispered and Fleur had sighed and given in, leaning down to peck the obnoxious toddler on the lips before she gave him a good scolding about kissing people he shouldn't be kissing. It had angered her greatly when he had just smirked at her and tottered off back to his mansion. Enraged, Fleur had scooped up Gabrielle and carried her into their villa, lecturing her little sister about whom she should and should not be entertaining the company of.


	2. Chapter 2

Out of all the boys she had ever kissed, Fleur knew she would never forget the moment her lips collided with those of Bill Weasley for the first time. He was special, even above the royalty she had kissed.

Of course, there was a large difference in the fact that she had been kissing boys and Bill Weasley was quite clearly a man but Fleur was absolutely sure that she would have felt the same regardless of how old he was at the time of their kiss.

She had originally thought, upon seeing him across the room with Harry at the Triwizard Tournament, that he was extremely handsome and his dangerous looks just made him more attractive, but there was no point as she would never see him again once the Tournament ended. Her thoughts had immediately changed that summer when she had taken a job at Gringotts as an attempt to improve her English.

"Good morning, Miss Delacour, welcome to Gringotts. Mr Weasley has just given up his job as curse-breaker in Egypt in favour of a desk job here in London, he'll be working beside you and I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help you if you need anything. Ah, speak of the devil, here he is. Bill, this is Fleur." Fleur had looked up from the goblin and there he was, standing there in all his fang-earring wearing, red-hair sporting goodness. She started to believe in fate that day.

"Hello," he had said and she thought he might as well have sung the greeting to her; his voice was so deep and rich. She had honestly never felt like that; all she could do was stare at him. "Griphook tells me that you've taken the job here to improve your English?"

"Ah, yes I 'ave," Fleur confirmed, pleased that she hadn't stuttered or choked on her words. He smiled at her and turned so he could lead her through the bank to the desks they would be working at.

"If you want, I could help you with that? You know, like, private lessons or something?" He had smiled charmingly at her and Fleur had thanked Merlin they had reached their desks because her knees had gone weak just in time for her to collapse into a chair.

"No, no, eet eez no trouble, and I 'ave no money to pay you with…" She had trailed off, embarrassed by her situation – money-less and unable to speak the language properly. He had frowned at her, and she had wondered what she had done to earn a look of such wrath from him.

"I don't expect you to pay me," he'd said gently, realising that he was upsetting her with his grimace. "I'll happily do it for free. So I'll meet you at outside the bank at seven? I know a nice place just outside the city where we can go." Was he asking her on a date? They had only just met that day! "I'm not asking you on a date, but I figure we should try and get to know each other if I'm going to teach you English." He had smiled at her again, in that charming way, and she wondered if he was psychic; having replied to her thoughts twice now. She had smiled back and agreed to meet him then.

She had kissed him that night, in the sunny orchard he had taken her to. It had stayed light long after they had left Diagon Alley to learn more about each other over a simple dinner of bread and wine and he'd just been so sweet and kind and funny that she had leant over the small picnic basket and kissed him. He'd pulled away, smiling, and the pointed out how late it was getting.

He'd Apparated her back to her small apartment in Diagon Alley and, after standing staring at her for a few minutes, he'd kissed her goodbye and then smiled bashfully and promised he would see her the next day.

And so their relationship began.


	3. Chapter 3

Fleur always felt that one of the most important kisses in her life was the one she gave to Harry Potter when he pulled her little sister out of the lake during the Triwizard Tournament. She stared at the photograph album in her lap, her fingers tracing over the shining face and wet hair of her little sister who was gazing at Harry with fierce adoration. Looking closely, Fleur chuckled softly as she noticed Ginny in the background, glaring at Gabrielle.

"What are you looking at?" Fleur glanced up and smiled at Bill who was standing in the doorway of the living room, watching her fondly.

"Just a photo album my seester gave me for Chreestmas," Fleur replied and Bill came to sit beside her, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her onto his lap. He chuckled as he looked at the photo.

"I take it this was taken just after Harry pulled Gabrielle out of the lake in the second task?" He questioned and she nodded, leaning into him. "I absolutely love Ginny's face in this – perhaps we should blow up this photo and show it to everyone when they get married?" Fleur laughed softly for a moment or two, and then gazed at the photo again.

"I was so scared I'd never see her again…" Fleur whispered as she traced her sister's beaming face in the photo. In the picture, Gabrielle giggled loudly and dodged away from Fleur's finger, her mouth shaping the words: "Hey, that tickles!" as she waved up at them. Harry grinned bashfully up at them, touching his cheek reverently as he blushed – clearly Fleur had just kissed his cheek. Ron could be seen in the background, also rubbing his cheek, and Ginny was taking it in turns to glare at Gabrielle, and glare at the person behind the camera who was evidently Fleur.

"But you did, due to Harry's moral fibre," Bill reminded her and she smiled up at him.

"I shall never forget ze look on 'eez face when I kissed 'im," Fleur giggled and Bill laughed along with her, smiling as her French accent came through quite strongly. "'E looked like 'e would faint!"


	4. Chapter 4

"She's so beautiful," Bill whispered, gazing down at their tiny daughter who was swaddled in a blanket and cradled carefully in Fleur's arms. "You're so amazing." He switched his stare from the tiny girl with the blue eyes to his beautiful wife and kissed her temple lovingly.

"Merci…" Fleur breathed, snuggling further into his arms. "What she we call 'er?" As Bill opened his mouth to answer, the Weasley family – plus a few others – crowded into the small room. Unsurprisingly, they didn't all fit and the tiny baby in Fleur's arms frowned around at them and then sneezed delicately. The women in the room all began to coo excessively.

"Oh, she's just beautiful," Hermione breathed, peering at the bundle in Fleur's arms from her precarious position on Ron's lap – it being precarious because Ron was seated right on the edge of the bed so as to avoid crowding his niece and her parents, and so he wouldn't knock Harry and Ginny off.

"Do you have a name picked out yet?" Luna asked lightly from the edge of the room where she was standing with her husband Rolf. Unnoticed to the others, she was resting a hand lightly on her slightly less-than-flat stomach. The two had met only a year before when Rolf had come to her new home to question her about an article in the Quibbler – which she had taken over the running of so her father could enjoy a somewhat quiet retirement. They had fallen in love the moment Luna opened the door and a week later Luna had dragged him to the Burrow to meet the family she wasn't actually related to, a ring shining happily on her finger.

"We were actually just about to discuss that, Luna, before everyone barged in through the door and interrupted," Bill replied teasingly. "Does anyone have any ideas, while the topic's open for debate?" There were various muttered suggestions from around the room, all of which were kindly declined, and then a moment of silence. Harry fiddled with Ginny's fingers and then looked up at the new parents.

"Well, today's the second anniversary of the war… How about something in honour of someone who was lost?"

"That's a good idea, Harry. You could call her…" Ginny fell silent, a look of sad reflection upon her pale features. Harry let go of her hand only so he could wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, turning to hide her face in his shoulder. Everyone was thinking of those who had been lost, and Harry knew that Ginny was thinking about Tonks; who she'd been particularly close to. He kissed her head.

"How about, instead of mourning those we lost, you call her Victoria, like victory, in honour of them?" George suggested quietly from the chair beside Bill. The baby gurgled softly and reached towards George. Upon seeing this, George's previously despondent face lit up brighter than a Hand of Glory and he very happily took her from Fleur's offered arms.

"I like zat idea…" Fleur mused, looking up at her husband. "But 'ow about we call 'er Victoire, the French for victory – eet eez prettier, no?" He smiled and nodded.

"Victoire Isabelle Weasley," he tested the name out and nodded again. They'd been decided on the middle name for quite some time.

Fleur beamed up at him, and then leaned forward so she could press a soft kiss to the forehead of her daughter.


	5. Chapter 5

She stayed by the grave long after it had been filled and everyone had hurried away to attend to their children and to make sure that Victoire and Dominique and Louis weren't taking it too hard.

With the exception of her, the last to leave had been Charlie who was deeply grieving the loss of his favourite brother, who had died far too young. Before he had left he had stood by her side and touched her shoulder gently; saying nothing but letting her know that he'd always be there. She had nodded, but not looked at him. She didn't want him, or any of them, to see how scared and fragile she was without her Bill.

It had been a freak accident in the tombs, she had received the news at quarter past one the same morning and Dominique and Victoire had been hurried home from Hogwarts, not being told what was going on until they were in the living room of the Burrow with their inconsolable mother, their frightened six year old brother, and a large, crying portion of the Weasley-Potter clan. They hadn't gone back to school for the rest of the year.

Fleur reached out and tenderly traced the words on his headstone.

_William Arthur Weasley_

_Husband, father, son, brother, friend._

_Life is not measured by the breaths we take_

_But by the moments that take our breath away_

_29__th__ November 1970 – May 21__st__ 2015_

_Beyond is the infinite morning of a day without tomorrow_

She had not been able to think of an epitaph without becoming slightly hysterical and was pleased with Hermione's choice of wording. Not that anyone could be pleased with the epitaph of their soul-mate but she still appreciated it. She just didn't understand how he could have left her so soon.

"_Maman?_" Victoire's voice startled her out of her reverie and she looked up at her oldest daughter, dressed in black with tear tracks running down her beautiful face. Teddy Lupin was standing closely behind her, looking down at her with concern. "_Maman, _Dominique is crying for you," she reported with a sniff and then, news shared, turned into the circle of Teddy's arms and walked away. Fleur knew her daughter didn't want to cry in front of her.

She returned her gaze to the grave before her and hiccupped back another sob as she drew out a delicate lace handkerchief to wipe her tears on. Then she bent forwards and rested her head on the cold stone.

"My Bill…" she whispered, kissed the white marble, and then she stood to go and attend to Dominique, tearing her eyes away from the grave with difficulty.


End file.
